


The Most Important Meal

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair prepares breakfast</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Important Meal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sentinel Thursday

Barely half awake, Blair lay in bed, warm and almost comfortable. He didn't want to move, to face the chill of a Cascade winter early morning. His bladder was nagging, however, and he knew he couldn't put off for much longer the evil moment when he had to get out of bed, leaving this lovely warmth for the cold air filling the loft. 

That was the one total incompatability between his needs and Jim's. With everything else they could (and did) compromise; but Jim - possibly because he was unconsciously keeping his sense of touch at a low level - didn't seem to feel the cold the same way that Blair did, and didn't seem to understand how sensitive Blair was to cold. The overnight temperature in the loft was far too low for Blair's comfort.

Of course, heat rises, and Jim slept upstairs. _Hmmm. Wonder how Jim would feel if he tried sleeping down here?_ passed through Blair's mind.

Blair blinked himself further awake and looked at his bedside clock. 6.15. He gritted his teeth and swung his legs out of bed. The cold bit instantly. He grabbed his clothes and made a wild dash for the bathroom.

He sighed with relief as he peed, then switched on the shower. Although he'd only been exposed to the low temperature for a couple of minutes, the heat of the water was more than welcome. He showered quickly, knowing that Jim would be coming downstairs soon, and despite his tolerance of cold _air_ did object to a cold shower; dried himself even more quickly, hauled on his clothes then - the heat from the shower seeping from his body - shaved and brushed his teeth.

He tossed his sweats onto the unmade bed and went into the kitchen. As he filled the kettle, the thermostat clicked on and he drew a long, relieved breath. Because the ceiling was so high it would take a while for the heat to reach floor level, but at least things had started to warm up. Though... it seemed a waste for the loft to be kept warm during the day when neither of them was in it! Wouldn't it make more sense to turn the heating off between... oh, eight, when they left for the day, and around four, to let the heat build up again before they got home, and keep it on during the night? Or at least set it to come on a couple of hours before they were getting up rather than at around the same time as their alarms normally sounded.

But he had argued that out with Jim more than once, and lost every time. Jim didn't seem to understand the concept of getting up to a warm room in the winter.

Upstairs, he could hear Jim moving. He selected a herbal teabag, poured boiling water over it, started the coffee maker, then turned his attention to the fridge.

Breakfast. The most important meal of the day.

He took out eggs, bacon, cheese. Trimmed the fat off the bacon. Broke half a dozen eggs into a bowl as Jim came down the stairs, calling, "Morning," as he crossed the living room en route to the bathroom and disappearing into it before Blair could answer.

He replied, "Morning," anyway, knowing that Jim would hear. He gulped down half his tea, grateful for the inner warmth.

Next Blair chopped the bacon into fairly small pieces and put them into the pan with a little butter to cook over a low heat as he whipped the eggs, added a little milk and whipped them again. Next he chopped the cheese into small squares.

He liked it when Jim was up before him and made breakfast; but he also liked making breakfast for Jim, though he really preferred cooking dinner.

Glancing at the clock, he decided he could add the eggs and cheese to the bacon, and stirred them together. A nice cheesy scrambled egg shot through with pieces of bacon. Yes.

Bread in the toaster. Stir the eggs. Nearly ready... And yes, here was Jim.

"Morning, Jim," he said again. "Sit down. Breakfast's nearly ready."


End file.
